


The God of Calamity's Groom?

by xdarksistahx



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin
Genre: Alternate Universe - Gods & Goddesses, Attempt at Humor, Explicit Sexual Content, Fluff, Idk what the fuck im doing tbh, Incest, M/M, Marriage Contracts, Meant to be fun, Mentions of Jonerys, Mild Angst, Not Viserys I, Take it as such, Viserys gets the godly dick he deserves, dark themes, mentions of r+l, mostly sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-13
Updated: 2020-01-13
Packaged: 2021-02-27 09:13:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,465
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22234621
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xdarksistahx/pseuds/xdarksistahx
Summary: For centuries, the Targaryen family has provided brides to the dragon god also known as, The God of Calamity. That was until the offerings stopped. To save the family from its endless misfortune, Rhaegar has no choice but to offer up Daenerys to appease the god. Except that Daenerys asks Viserys to stand in her place so that she can celebrate her 18th birthday with her friends and the super cute guy she really likes.Besides, it's not like any of this talk about gods and curses is real, right?
Relationships: Viserys Targaryen/Daemon Targaryen
Comments: 34
Kudos: 50





	The God of Calamity's Groom?

**Author's Note:**

> This is hugely inspired by a web comic I read. The God of Pain's Groom. I'm also trying to push my crack ship agenda. Also more Viserys content is never a bad thing. tw; murder/suicide

Among the great families in Westeros, House Targaryen is the wealthiest with a lineage spanning centuries. There are those who believe the family descended from the gods due to their peculiar silver-white hair, pale skin that seems to glow in the moonlight, and startling purple eyes. There are others who believe the family is cursed because, despite their fame, wealth, and prestige, tragedy and misfortune befall the family at every turn.

The Flea Bottom Ripper was a prolific serial killer who murdered twenty-five women before his capture was a member of the Targaryen family. Several corrupt mayors came from the family as well. Sisters and brothers have even murdered one another to inherit the family’s wealth. For a time, it seemed as if every nightmarish thing that occurred in the city was tied to the Targaryens in some way. Inside the walls of the family’s ancestral home, Dragonstone, vile acts of violence were committed and are said to still be committed to this day. It’s even rumored that there are bodies buried within the walls. 

“None of the rumors are true of course,” Rhaegar Targaryen, the current heir of the family's estate, says. “About the bodies, that is. I’ve checked myself.” 

Viserys, his younger brother, shivers. He hugs himself. “But is it true that we descended from the gods?” he asks, eyes hopeful. “They say those bound to the gods are fortunate. If we’re bound to the gods, won’t life get better for us?” 

Even at the age of seven, his little brother recognizes how terrible their life is beneath the glam. Then again, how could Viserys be blind to it all?

As thick as the walls are in his chamber, they can both still hear their parents fighting. Rhaegar suggested another topic for them to discuss but after Viserys came across that ‘tell-all’ article about their family he had a million questions. His brother is honestly too intelligent for his own good. The curse of being a prodigy, he supposes. 

“It’s difficult to say if we’re true descendants,” Rhaegar answers truthfully. “But…” He stops himself. “Perhaps this is a story for another night.” 

The sound of glass shattering carries to their ears. Viserys hugs himself tighter to keep from shaking. Rhaegar touches the top of his brother’s head to comfort him. 

“It is said that every 100 years, our family is required to provide a bride to the dragon god. In return blessings upon blessings will be bestowed upon our family. Unfortunately, there hasn’t been an offering in 200 years.” 

“Is that why we’re cursed?” 

Yes. At least that’s what Rhaegar truly believes. Until their family rights this wrong, they will never know true happiness. 

He glances over at the crib at the foot of Viserys’s bed. He brought their baby sister in here once the shouting match started as not to have her sleep disturbed. The family’s maester told his mother that she would have another boy. Instead, she gave birth to a healthy baby girl. 

It’s a good omen. 

Still, thinking of his baby sister as some sort of sacrificial lamb sits uneasily on his stomach. He is the eldest. He will make sure that his siblings are well-taken care of on his own. He won’t rely on myths and legends. 

“Our fortune will change brother,” Rhaegar says confidently. “I will make sure of it.” 

Viserys gives him one of his bright smiles. “Can you tell me more about the dragon god?” 

The arguing seems to have calmed down a bit. But he doesn’t mind staying until Viserys falls asleep. 

“The dragon god, also known as the God of Calamity, is said to have been a great general who fought bravely on the battlefield. He won many campaigns for his queen, as well. With time, he became the queen’s favorite. Some even say he became her consort…” 

But as most royals are, the queen was possessive and jealous of anyone who spent a great deal of time in her general’s presence. It was known that the general fancied the brothels and the city’s slums so the queen allowed such trysts. Because he only shared their bed for a night. However, she could not bear to share the general’s attention with a certain common girl the general favored. 

Rhaegar has to tell a cleaner version of the story for Viserys’s sake. He does not tell his little brother that the queen envied the common girl because of the innocence of her relationship with the general. The queen cared not for his whoremongering as men are often weak to the flesh and a warrior such as him had a big appetite. But she couldn’t tolerate him devoting so much time and affection to a street rat. 

“It is said that the common girl was the general’s illegitimate daughter he’d recently connected with. The sources never say if the queen believed this or not. Either way, her jealousy couldn’t be swayed. So she had the girl arrested on false charges.” 

In truth, the queen ordered the vilest of her catspaws to kill the girl. What the catspaws actually did to the girl was horrific. 

“She fell to the plague while in prison,” Rhaegar lies. “The general blamed the queen nonetheless. He broke his vow by slaying his liege. Queenslaying was a great sin, and he was punished for it.” 

Upon learning of his daughter’s death, the general actually killed the catspaws and then rampaged throughout the castle, killing everyone who crossed his path, even servants and children. Then he brutally killed the queen. As punishment, he was given the cruelest death imaginable. The Long Farewell, the bards called it. It was a slow, agonizing death. Every moment was filled with pain and misery. The history texts say it took the general forty-seven days to die. 

“The higher gods pitied the general so they made him one of them. Made gods are often given powers and roles that relate to their defining moments in life. He was made the God of Calamity due to his impact on the battlefields.” And for how he swept through the castle on that fateful day, destroying everything in his path like a great cyclone. 

“Was the general a Targaryen?” Viserys asks, his expression sullen. “He sounds unfortunate enough to be one of us.” 

Rhaegar has to admit his brother has a point. But he won’t admit it aloud. “We still have it better than most, Viserys. We have a roof over our heads, we’ve never known hunger or financial hardship. Let’s try to be grateful for the good we have.” 

“There isn’t much of it…” Viserys turns his back to Rhaegar, a sign that he’s no longer in the mood for stories tonight. “If I was a girl I could be the dragon god’s bride,” he whispers. “I could save our family...” 

Rhaegar has nothing to say to that.

It isn’t often that he’s at a loss for words. He doesn’t disturb Daenerys’s crib. She’s already soundly asleep, and she sleeps better when she’s around one of them. All of the talk about myths has rekindled an interest he had as a child, so he goes to the library to research. 

* * *

**17 years later**

**.**

**.**

“Okay but what about this one?” Daenerys holds up a silk, champagne, slip dress to her petite frame and waits. 

Without glancing up from his phone, Viserys says, “Looks great. You’re going to totally kill it.” He shoots a text to his dealer then opens his Instagram to aimlessly scroll through pictures of people he doesn’t give a shit about. “Why are you even bothering to pick an outfit out? You know Rhaegar wants you to spend your birthday here.” 

Rolling her eyes, Daenerys hangs the dress back up and grabs another. “So I can participate in a weird ritual to become some dragon gods bride? I know our brother has been through a lot but don’t you think this is insane even for Rhaegar.” 

The tone of her voice is enough for him to lower his phone and look at her. “Wow, I never expected sweet and innocent Dany to be saying this. Wasn’t the tale of the dragon god your favorite?” 

“Yeah, when I was eight.” Daenerys holds up a red bodycon dress. “Is this trying too hard?” 

When Viserys was seven, eight, nine, and even thirteen, the tale of the dragon god was one of his favorite stories, too. He actually used to believe in that crap. Then one night their father killed their mother before taking his own life. Years later Rhaegar was in a bad wreck that’s left him partially blind. In the same year, the woman Rhaegar is in love with was given away to someone else to close out her family’s business dealings. Viserys won’t even get into his own hardships. He’s fresh out of coke and his dealer has yet to respond. He doesn’t need that shit right now.   
  
The world is simply a cruel place. Curses don’t exist. 

“Yes the red is definitely trying too hard,” Viserys says. 

Daenerys huffs out an irritated breath. She hangs up the dress and walks over to the bed and lays beside him. “Rhaegar really isn’t going to let me go, is he?” 

“Definitely not. He truly believes this offering will save our family. All you have to do is go through with it and once it doesn’t work, Rhaegar will snap out of it.” 

“You know how long I’ve been waiting for tonight, Viserys. Jon is throwing me a birthday party. The star futball player is throwing a party for me! Do you understand how major that is?” 

For a teenage girl who has had a crush on this particular star player since junior high, this is the single most important thing in her life right now. Viserys remembers when simple things like that excited him. Maybe that’s why he’s so quick to agree to her ridiculous idea. 

“All you have to do is wear the wedding robes, maybe put on a little makeup and stand in my place,” Dany says, and it sounds as if she’s thought this through already. “Our dear brother’s sight isn’t what it used to be. If you don’t speak, he won’t know the difference.” 

“Rhaegar could be as blind as a bat but that won’t make him any less perceptive, sister.” Still, it’s been a while since Viserys pulled a fast one on their brother. Maybe this could be fun. Besides, there isn't like he has anything better to do what with him being on house arrest and all. “Fine. I’ll do it. But you owe me.” 

“Whatever you want!” Dany quickly says, climbing on top of him and smiling like she just won the lottery. Then again, what would winning the lottery do for the wealthiest family in this shit city? 

Viserys puts his hands on Dany’s hips, grinning up at her salaciously. “Oh, sweet sister, you really shouldn’t say that while you’re straddling me.” This isn’t out of the ordinary for them. They’ve always been affectionate with one another; more than typical siblings. 

Laughing, Dany playfully hits him. “Cut it out. People already think we’re fucking each other.” 

“We might as well start then.” 

“You’re not even interested in women.” 

“That’s not true. I make exceptions.” 

“Like Arianne...” 

Viserys groans. “Way to kill my boner, sis.” He doesn’t want to think about his crazy ex-girlfriend who’s to thank for him being on house arrest in the first place. 

This time, Rhaegar wouldn’t bribe the court on his behalf because he wants to teach Viserys a lesson. He actually bribed the judge to put Viserys on house arrest. Seriously, what kind of shit is that? 

“Do you still love her? Even though she set you up to take the fall?” 

Viserys heavily sighs. “Can we talk about how you’re going to fit me into these traditional robes that were tailored for you. I know I have a sexy, lithe frame, but I’m not that small.” 

“Thank you for this, Viserys,” Dany says using that look that makes people want to give her the entire world. “I promise to make it up to you.” 

“I will make sure that you do.” He probably won’t, honestly. He doesn’t mind doing things for his little sister. She has him and Rhaegar wrapped around her finger anyway. “Now, hurry up and find the perfect dress. We don’t have that much time.”

* * *

Viserys is both impressed and slightly irritated that he can actually fit into the robes that were specifically made for Dany. They are a tad too tight and the cleavage area makes it look like he actually has an A cup. He’s grateful the robes cover the hideous ankle bracelet. Every one of his outfits has been ruined by the eyesore. 

Even though this entire ritual is a sham, he goes all out with it. He’s a Targaryen, after all. He has to either go big or take his ass home. 

Thanks to his lovely sister’s generosity, he has access to an array of cosmetics to make himself look more feminine. He uses a bit of her concealer for the dark circles under his eyes, eyeliner, mascara, and red lipstick to top it all off. 

“I look damn good,” he mutters to himself as he appraises his reflection. Out of the three of them, he inherited their father’s sharp cheekbones so he doesn’t need to bother with contouring. “Bless my mother for giving me her lips...” 

His lips are full with a plump bottom. It’s almost a pity that this is all for nothing. He kind of wishes someone would see him. So, he takes a couple of selfies for memory sake. After sending the good ones to Dany to show her that he’s still going through wit this for her, he heads to the basement where Rhaegar is waiting. 

On his way there, he checks his phone to see if his dealer has responded. He hasn’t. Annoyed, he stuffs his phone away. 

“Dany?” Rhaegar calls out at the sound of swishing fabric. He smiles. “Come, it’s nearly time.” Over the years, he’s grown his hair out as an act of mourning for all they’ve lost so now it nearly touches his hips. 

Viserys silently follows his brother into the basement where a circle of lit candles awaits them. There’s a strange symbol in the middle of the circle made in the black sand from Dragonstone’s beach. He wonders if Rhaegar ordered a servant to do it, though, it seems unlikely. 

When Rhaegar faces him, Viserys’s heart skips a beat. For a second, it feels as if his brother can see him perfectly clear. But the lighting is too dim and Rhaegar can only see a person’s outline and dashes of color. 

“Forgive me,” Rhaegar says remorsefully. “I had hoped it would never come to this. But this is the only way. Please, stand in the circle.” 

The tension in the air gives Viserys pause, but he regains himself quickly and enters the circle. 

“At the stroke of midnight, he will come for you. Remember what I’ve told you,” is all Rhaegar says before leaving. 

No heartfelt farewell or a word of good fortune. What kind of departure was that? Viserys is starting to think that not even Rhaegar believes in this ridiculous ritual because there’s no way he would be that dry if he truly believes he’d never see his sister again. And what was it that Rhaegar told Dany? She never passed on any words to him. Viserys supposes it makes no difference. Once midnight hits and nothing happens, this will be the end of it. 

According to the clock on the wall, it’s two minutes until midnight.

By now Dany is at the party, bringing in her birthday with her friends and the boy she likes. The boy Viserys has never cared to ask about. Maybe he’ll have Dany invite this Jon over so he can interrogate him to make sure he’s good enough for his little sister. He always gets oddly sentimental around her birthday. It’s because with each year she looks more and more like their beloved mother. 

Suddenly, the clock chimes loudly, signaling midnight.

Immediately, the candle’s flames intensify and shine bright red. Instinctively, Viserys crouches down to protect himself from the flames. But it’s to no avail. They swallow him whole, bathing him in searing heat...that doesn’t burn. 

_'Thank you for the offering.'_

Viserys raises his head at the sound of the deep voice and finds himself floating in a sea of twinkling stars on a sapphire canvas. He feels weightless and curiously calm. There’s something floating toward him. No, it’s someone. A blinding light sits at their back, making it difficult for him to get a good look at them. The closer they draw near, the more vivid their face becomes. 

With just one look, Viseys knows it’s him. The dragon god. The God of Calamity. 

He’s more beautiful than Viserys ever imagined in his childhood fantasies. Chiseled face, porcelain skin, vibrant purple eyes, and long, silver hair that flows behind him like an endless stream of silken moonlight. The god cups his face, examining him closely. 

“You’re the wrong gender,” he says in a surprisingly gentle voice. Then he leans in and whispers, “But I accept you.” He punctuates his words with a kiss. 

What occurs after that is so bizarre - more bizarre than floating in space with a god - that Viserys likes to think he dreamt it. In the blink of an eye, the god transformed into a great red dragon and carried Viserys through the universe. He passed out from shock sometime during the journey, thinking that when he woke up he’d be back home. 

-o0o-

When Viserys does wake up, he isn’t back home. 

Instead, he’s in a massive room with a ceiling that seems to reach as far as the heavens. In a normal room in Dragonstone, the bed he finds himself in would take up the entirety of the room. But here, it hardly takes up any space despite its size. 

Hearing the sound of water, he sits up carefully and looks around for the source. There appears to be some sort of pond on one side of the room. The decorations are sparse aside from some ornate floor pillows, a single tapestry on the wall, and a few gold chests. 

Viserys slides his glance back to the tapestry, noticing the red three-headed dragon. He frowns. Why does the tapestry bear his family’s crest? 

He throws the comforter back. Then makes a ridiculous noise when he finds himself completely nude. He doesn’t even have his ankle bracelet on. Well, that’s one bright side. Viserys touches his ankle. He missed it so much. 

“Finally, you’re awake.” 

At the sound of the deep voice, Viserys pulls the comforter up over his body. Normally, he isn’t the modest sort; not by a long shot. But when it comes to strange places with strange people he tends to be wary. Even if the strange person is as good looking as this man. 

His hair isn’t long anymore and he doesn’t look as ethereal as he did earlier, but he’s still quite the looker. Viserys even thinks he prefers the man with shorter hair as it draws more attention to his sharp jawline, making him look more the warrior he’s framed as. 

“You’re the God of Calamity?” Viserys asks rhetorically. “That ritual worked…” Or his dealer actually did text him back and he’s been tripping balls this whole time. 

The god disrobes, exposing Viserys to his godly glory, and he doesn’t disappoint. Every inch of his body is carved muscle, reminding Viserys of a marble statue of...well, a god. He makes Viserys look like a fucking twink and that seriously bothers him. Of course, a lot of people think he looks twinkish but this is different. There’s no debating which of them will be topping in this relationship. 

Fuck, he’s going to have to be the bottom. This is a nightmare. Because there’s no way in seven hells he’ll survive being fucked by a cock that big. Viserys tries to think fast. He’s gotten himself out of stickier situations. 

Not really, but he has to make an effort. 

The god gets on the bed and crawls toward Viserys, eyeing him as though he were nothing more than prey to devour. For the first time since his first time, Viserys is afraid. 

“Call me Daemon,” the god says in a voice that makes Viserys’s head spin. He roughly yanks the comforter from Viserys’s grip, pulling it down. “I’ve never bedded a mortal man before but I suppose it’s fine.” Taking Viserys by the hips with a firm grip, he pulls him closer, nudging his legs apart with his knees. “A hole is a hole…” 

Reflexively, Viserys punches the god in the face.

And immediately regrets. 

“What in the fuck is your face made out of?!” he shouts, tears stinging his eyes. He clutches his throbbing fist. 

Daemon laughs heartily. “You’re ballsy! I like that! A meek consort will only bore me.” His laughter dies quickly. “However, you will need to learn when to be obedient. You are still a mortal. Never raise a hand to me again or you’ll be without hands. I don’t need your hands to obtain your essence.” 

Viserys doesn’t like the sound of that at all. “I may be a mortal but I’m not your doormat. I am a Targaryen, not some dumb, spineless worm. Respect is earned.” 

“I expect nothing less from my bloodline.” Daemon takes hold of Viserys’s thighs, pressing them back. “Enough talking.” 

“Wait! Wait!” He uses the first excuse that comes to mind. “I’m a virgin and a weak mortal. Like really weak.” It pains him to say something so degrading. “You can’t just put that inside of me without preparing me.” 

Daemon licks away a tear that rolls down Viserys’s face. “Liar. You’re no maiden. I know what maidens taste like.” Surprisingly, he doesn’t try to force his way inside again. He kisses Viserys on the cheek and whisper, “I’ll make sure it’s enjoyable for you.” 

Viserys’s protests are swallowed up by a sensual kiss that leaves him speechless and needy. He hears himself whimpering and moaning and he’d be embarrassed if he didn’t want this so badly. When did he start to want it? Only a moment ago, he was frightened by the prospect of being taken; being hurt. Now he’s meeting Daemon’s kisses with that same fiery passion. Even still he can’t keep up. Daemon is all-consuming, he controls every aspect of this moment. Viserys could very well just lay there and nothing would change. Yet he tries to give as much as he’s given. 

Daemon’s hands travel over the expanse of his body, leaving heat in their wake. In turn, Viserys explores the god's body, stroking his back, his hard stomach, and chest. When Daemon licks one of his nipples, he moans loudly, arching his back. A simple act like that shouldn’t rile him up this way. However, there’s something more to this, something about Daemon that makes everything feel ten times better than it normally would. 

It all feels so good that the pain in his fist is overpowered by pleasure. Soon, it’s Viserys who’s being impatient and careless. He grabs Daemon’s cock. It’s thick, heavy, and hot. Just the feel of it makes him moan. He tries to guide it to his body, press it inside. But Daemon stops him by pinning his hands above his head. 

Viserys whines. The sound of it snaps him out of whatever spell he’s under for a moment. He has to catch himself because he’s starting to sound too twinkish for his tastes. 

Then Daemon is sucking and biting at his nipples and his mind goes blank. To hell with how he sounds or how he’s perceived right now. This is too damn good. 

How long has it been since anyone has kissed or touched him like this? Too long.

Perhaps that's why he’s so sensitive. Daemon begins to grind his hips, their erections rubbing together. Viserys feels that familiar heat settle at the base of his spine then blossom. His toes curl, his eyes clench shut, and a groan escapes him as he comes. 

Frottage. He just came from frottage that lasted no more than a few seconds. The bar is in the lowest level of hell. 

What is Daemon doing to him? Is this Daemon’s doing? For all Viserys knows, this is just how he’d normally react to being stimulated this way. In the past, he’s always been the dominant one in bed as a way to have control over something in his life. But now his entire life is in Daemon’s hands. 

Eyes growing heavy, he pulls Daemon close to him, wanting to cuddle all of a sudden. This isn’t like him.

Chuckling, Daemon bites Viserys’s earlobe, and Viserys moans in response. “Sleep if you want to.” He pulls Viserys arms away from him then flips him over to his stomach. “I’m not nearly done.” 

Daemon’s hands caress Viserys’s sweaty back, nails lightly scratching his flesh. Reaching Viserys’s backside, he spreads him open. The god mumbles something about Viserys being pretty and smooth down there, that it’ll be like tasting a woman, he supposes. Then he drags his tongue over Viserys taut hole, humming to himself contentedly. Viserys’s vision goes white and his body melts into the bed. 

The only thing he can do is whimper into the pillow, weakly clutch the silk bed sheets, and sob. Daemon doesn’t use a single finger. He spends minutes, possibly hours—there’s no sense of time in this room, at this moment—getting Viserys ready for him. 

At one point, it feels as if Daemon’s entire tongue is inside of him, touching that sweet bundle of nerves that sends him over the edge. And that’s exactly what happens. For the second time, Viserys releases from something that wouldn’t usually make him cum. 

“I’ve waited long enough,” he hears Daemon say after he wakes up from a short nap. 

Throughout the nap, the god was still feasting on him apparently. Viserys went from thinking he’d made a huge mistake to now counting himself lucky. 

It doesn’t hurt when Daemon enters him. By then, Viserys is boneless and in and out of consciousness. It all begins to feel like a fever dream. He catches glimpses of their consummation. Daemon kisses up his spine as he fucks him deeply. So deep, Viserys swears he can feel it in his throat. He recalls Daemon biting the top of his ear and groaning his name as though it were his dying breath. 

“My...my name…” Viserys mutters, “how do you know my name?” 

Daemon moves them to their sides, holding Viserys’s leg up for better access. “I know everything about you,” he says, kissing Viserys’s temple. “The more we do this, the more information is transferred…” 

The transference must be one-sided because Viserys still only knows what Rhaegar told him as a child about the dragon god. How unfair, he thinks. He wants to know what the myths and legends don’t know. He wants to be someone Daemon can rely on emotionally. 

It’s just the sex, he tells himself. Good dick makes people think they’re ready for things they aren’t truly ready for. This is all he can give a being like Daemon. He’s nothing more than a mortal. A god’s pet. All he can do is lay here and let Daemon have his fill. 

And Daemon does. He bends and turns Viserys whichever way he likes, fucking him within an inch of unconsciousness just to wake him back up with a powerful thrust. Eventually, even that can’t keep Viserys awake. He’s too tired and overfucked to even moan anymore. He falls asleep with the word, “please” on his tongue. 

“Please, what?” Daemon asks. 

Blinking, Viserys looks around. They’re on the edge of the bed now. Daemon is sitting while Viserys is straddling him. The god has been fucking him as though he were some sort of sex doll while he slept. 

“Will this ever end?” Viserys is ready for it to be over despite how good it still feels. “If we keep this up I’ll die.” 

Daemon chuckles. He seems to be a good-natured person. “I won’t let you die. You’ll live with me for as long as you permit.” 

“So I do have a choice in all this?” 

“If you’re able to form full sentences again, I must not be fucking you well enough.” Daemon stands, carrying Viserys with ease. “Let me rectify that.” 

Viserys barely has enough time to secure his hands around Daemon’s neck before Daemon starts to fuck him while standing. The raw strength in his arms and the force of his thrusts should terrify Viserys yet it excites him. He’s never been with anyone strong enough to hold him and fuck him like this without faltering. Daemon hasn’t broken a sweat yet. His breathing is steady as if he were sitting down for a cup of tea not fucking someone cross-eyed. He even manages to hold Viserys up with one hand, without slowing down his pace and rubs the bulge in Viserys’s stomach. The bulge his cock is making. 

Looking down, Viserys eyes widen. “Oh, god-” His words break off into a choked sob. 

“Daemon.” He rolls his hips again, hitting Viserys’s prostate just right. “I told you to call me Daemon.” 

Viserys trembles and cries as he cums. 

“How many times was that?” Daemon asks smugly. “You even did it while you slept. You humans are so responsive. I’ve missed fucking your kind.” 

Viserys buries his face in the crook of Daemon’s neck, riding out his orgasm. He keeps his head there longer than initially planned because there’s something about Daemon’s words that make him feel less than dirt for some reason. This is going to be the extent of their relationship. He’s going to be this god’s cocksleeve for eternity by the sounds of it. He doubts he can even fully please a god sexually, either. 

Whenever he used to fantasize about being the dragon god’s bride, he thought it’d be more romantic. 

That’s always been his downfall. He’s too much of a hopeless romantic. Perhaps if Dany had come here in his place she would’ve managed to get Daemon to fall for her. Everyone adores Dany. She’s easy to love and worthy of it. Viserys is just the black sheep of the family, the fuck up, the-

“Could you please put an end to your incessant self slander?” Daemon says irately. “If I found you undesirable, I would’ve sent you back. But I accepted you, didn’t I?” He touches the back of Viserys’s head, urging him to meet his gaze. 

“That’s not fair!” Viserys lifts his head but he refuses to meet Daemon’s gaze. “You can read my mind.” 

“You’re not a coward so stop acting like one. Look at me." 

Viserys looks Daemon in the eyes. 

“This marriage hasn’t even been consummated and you’re already unhappy. I thought with you being a man you’d be easier to put up with.” 

“That’s sexist, Daemon.” 

“What-ist?” Daemon frowns in confusion. “And what in seven hells is a cocksleeve? I must admit it’s a very interesting word but I have an inkling it’s far from a good thing.” 

“You’ve been alive for centuries but you don’t know what those words mean?” 

Daemon carries Viserys back to the bed, laying him down on his back. He’s still inside of him. “When I visit earth, I keep my business brief. I used my brides as a bridge to the mortal realm but I haven’t had one in two centuries.” 

Viserys supposes that makes sense. There’s a lot he needs to teach Daemon. Although he’s humiliated that Daemon had a front-row seat at his pity-party, he likes that he didn’t have to voice those insecurities. 

“You’re a beautiful man, Viserys,” Daemon says. “Is that what you want to hear?” 

“I want you to say it and mean it.” 

“I do not bed anyone I deem ugly. As for your other concerns, they’re baseless. Do you know why gods have consorts? Human consorts?” 

Viserys shakes his head. 

“Because we’re lonely. Some of us prefer humans because of their ability to feel emotion. I was once a human but I don’t remember what it feels like to be one. You’re more than a...cock servant to me-” 

“Cocksleeve.” 

“Nonetheless, that isn’t your role here. I can have anyone I want. God or mortal. But I chose you as my bride.” Daemon rubs Viserys bottom lip with his thumb. “Now, we can discuss the rest of that later. I want to know what these pretty lips feel like around my cock.” 

Gods, at the rate this has been going Viserys will be sucking until all seven hells freeze over. Daemon kisses him before pulling out. The absence of him makes Viserys feel incredibly empty and cold. He didn’t realize how hot to the touch Daemon was until now. 

“That’s why I choose Targaryen brides,” Daemon says as he moves to a kneeling position on the bed. “My fire isn’t as intense to you because you’re my descendant. You’re the dragon’s descendant.” 

“Good ole Targaryen incest even transcends planes of existence.” Viserys lays down in front of Daemon, taking hold of his cock. 

It’s even bigger up close. He swallows hard. 

Daemon laughs. “I like your humor.” He cups Viserys’s chin delicately, tilting his head up slightly. “You remind me of my second wife from when I was a mortal. I was quite fond of her I remember.” 

“Please don’t talk about your exes when I’m about to stick your cock in my mouth.” 

Matter of fact, Viserys will just have to make Daemon forget all about past lovers. And if someone comes after him, Daemon won’t be able to fuck them without thinking about Viserys. He’ll make sure of it. All he needed was reassurance and now that he has it, he can be himself. 

Although Daemon’s cock is the biggest he’s ever had, Viserys stretches his mouth to the limit to accommodate. The stretch burns but he endures, and he has a feeling that his struggles to fit the god’s cock all the way in turns Daemon on immensely. His eyes brighten as he watches tears fill Viserys’s eyes and how Viserys’s eyes bulge whenever he takes Daemon in too deep. Of course, the god of calamity would have sadistic tendencies. 

Once Daemon’s breathing changes, becoming heavier and erratic, that’s when Viserys knows that he’s doing well. He cups Daemon’s heavy balls, squeezing and fondling as he uses shallow bobs of his head to tease the man. Naturally, Daemon isn’t a fan of teasing. He touches the back of Viserys’s head, holding him there while he fucks his mouth. Viserys allows it for only a moment. To regain the upper hand, he squeezes Daemon’s balls harder. 

“Fuck,” Daemon curses. 

Viserys smiles up at him then continues unraveling him. When Daemon starts groaning his name and tugging at his hair, that’s when Viserys truly feels accomplished. He glances up at Daemon, needing to see the kind of face he’s making, and he isn’t disappointed. Daemon is biting his lips, and his eyes are so bright now they almost look as if they’re glowing. As the seconds pass, the brighter they become until the color changes completely.

Viserys finds himself gazing into a dazzling galaxy as endless and vast as the universe. He wonders if this signifies Daemon’s release. He never finds out for sure because he succumbs to exhaustion soon afterward. 

* * *

There are no windows inside the room so when Viserys awakes sometime later it’s difficult to tell if it’s morning or not. He only knows that Daemon isn’t in bed with him. At least the bed isn’t cold. The side Daemon slept on still burns hot. 

While he slept, he had several dreams that weren’t quite dreams. They were memories, and glimpses into the present state of things on earth. He dreamed of being on a battlefield, men and horses dying all around him, then that memory changed into a fonder one of him petting a large, red dragon and urging a young, dark-skinned girl forward to pet the dragon.

Soon, he began to realize that these were Daemon’s memories. Thankfully, they were some of the milder ones, though, he knows with time he will be exposed to the brunt of what happened all those centuries ago. 

Then Viserys saw his sister and brother, and they weren’t alone. 

“Lyanna is back,” he says to himself, startled. He isn’t sure who the young, dark-haired man she had with her was but they all seemed happy. 

“Her oaf of a husband met a very untimely end,” Daemon says as he walks into the room, wearing full armor and a long, gold cloak that seems to flow silently behind him. “Your family has finally made good on our promise so their fortune has already begun to change.” 

Viserys is happy to hear that, but he’s distracted right now. Daemon’s beauty leaves him stunned again. He looks regal yet intimidating, every bit of the infamous general who bravely led men into battle.

“Where are you off to?” Viserys asks. 

“To do my godly duties.” 

“You mean cause calamity.” 

“That is exactly what I’m going to do.” 

Viserys isn’t sure how to proceed. Does he jump out of bed and wish his husband well? Does he offer a morning blowjob to set his day off on a good foot? 

“Viserys,” Daemon says in his commanding voice. “Come here.” 

Surprisingly, he can walk just fine. There are bruises and bite marks on his thighs and stomach and he’s certain there are more on the rest of him but other than that he feels well-rested. He stops in front of Daemon, noticing how much taller the god is to him. 

“I will return at sundown,” he says. “Then I will show you around my domain. Valyria is vast and beautiful.” 

“Valyria? Like Old Valyria?” 

“The very same.” 

There are so many questions Viserys has but he supposes that’ll have to wait until later. They have more than enough time after all. 

Daemon departs but not without kissing Viserys and making his stomach feel as though a million tiny dragons were flying all over the place. Gods, that’s the sappiest shit he’s ever thought. Is this what it’s like to be married? 

Holy fuck, he’s married. To a god at that. Talk about hitting the jackpot. He really wishes he had his phone right now so he could post this to his Insta story. 

**The end. Maybe ;)**

**Author's Note:**

> Writing this was really fun and it helped me overcome my writer's block so at the very least, I enjoyed it. But I'd really like to know if you did too so let me know please! There may be more of these oneshots because the concept is just too fun to ignore.


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